


When I'm Miserable

by BitterTongue



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-12
Updated: 2018-12-12
Packaged: 2019-09-17 01:52:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,753
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16965468
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BitterTongue/pseuds/BitterTongue
Summary: Loki abandons his attempt to rebuild his relationship with Thor after realizing his brother will never fully trust or understand him. He finds himself drawn to a girl, now guardian of her little sister after their mother’s sudden death, and tries to teach her the lessons of love, forgiveness, and acceptance before their differences tear them apart.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Porting over from my tumblr Cordytriestowrite

It was a bright, cheery day of summer when your mother suddenly died. You remember everything from that day. You were wearing a brand new floral tank top you had bought a few days before. You had struggled to make the wings of your eyeliner even and lamented over your lack of mastery of a task you had been performing since high school. You remember Dan and the first date you were just sitting down to when you got a call from an unfamiliar number. You remember the voice on the other end, some woman from the hospital whose name you didn’t catch. It was sorrowful and sympathetic and was slowly drowned out by your wrecked sobs and desperate questions. You remember getting up from the table just as the waiter came by to take your drink orders. You remember Dan calling your name as you fled the restaurant. Your mind shut down somewhere between ordering the plane ticket home and getting on said plane.  
Sudden heart attack, they had told you when you arrived at the hospital directly from the airport. There was nothing they could do.  
Your entire world changed that day and yet somehow remained exactly as it had been as you returned permanently to your hometown, though you were no longer an unruly high schooler and instead taking care of one. You had a sister, only 14 who was now in need of a guardian and heading back to school in a few short weeks. You had a funeral to plan, a will to review, and a thousand tears to cry. And you had him to carry you through it all, even if you didn’t realize that’s what he was doing the whole time.  
“Why are you always around when I’m miserable?”  
“Because that’s when you’re alone.”


	2. Chapter 2

Salem, Indiana. When you first moved away from the small city and its six thousand residents you hated telling people where you were from.

“Oh, Massachusetts.” They would say.

“No, Indiana.” You would correct.

“I didn't know there was a Salem in Indiana.” They would finish with a confused look on their face before going back to their more interesting California lives.

Now you were back and those conversations ceased to be a staple of introduction, but so many things had also ceased to be discussed. Food, art, culture, current events, all subjects thrown aside in the face of everyone’s new favorite topic: what are you going to do?

“How are you going to handle raising your little sister?” They would ask.

“Did your mom leave you anything?” Inquired the snoopers.

“Are you okay?”

And were you okay? What a dumb question. Who would be okay being torn from the beginnings of a life they were building for themselves and coming back to a home without a mother? Who would be ready and to accept guardianship over their little sister and step into a parenting role no one had ever prepared them for?

You took a large sip of your beer, letting the carbonation tickle the roof of your mouth before swallowing around the bitter lump in your throat. It was 4pm on a Monday and you were on your second drink. Your bleary eyes glanced around the room, practically empty save for two older men further down the bar.

You hadn’t been old enough to even enter a bar when you last lived in Salem. It felt odd to sit on the rickety wooden stool and think back to a time you desired this, the ability to legally drink in the O'Haimes Tavern and enjoy a Friday night with friends while listing to the live band. Had you been able to tell your teenage self you would end up here on a Monday afternoon to drown your sorrows all alone…

“Thanks for covering for me Rach.” A frazzled looking women strolled quickly to your side of the bar, from the back room still trying up her long blonde hair. The other bartender, Rachel, you assumed, nodded sympathetically as she poured a set of double whiskeys for the men down the bar.

“No problem, I know how hard it is to adjust to Jason going back to school.”

Your glass had only been a few centimeters off the bar top, which was lucky for you as your grip loosened and it wobbled dangerously before settling in its upright position. The noise brought the two bartenders’ attention to you but you couldn’t be bothered to care. You fumbled through your buzzed, sluggish movements into the purse thrown haphazardly into the seat next to you. You grasped your phone *Where are you?

Did you forget about me?

Are you okay?!

You tried to keep an air of calm about you as you paid your bill and exited O'Haimes but you could tell by your slight imbalance that you probably didn’t fool anyone. You hurried along the sidewalk as fast as your wobbly ankles would carry you, the edge of Salem High School’s property revealing itself a few blocks later. You couldn’t help but mumble to yourself as you made your way around the wide chain-link fence to the school entrance.

“Please be there. Please be there. Please be there.”

And there she was, looking put out and pouty sitting on the blue bench just to the left of the front doors. She was on her phone and hadn’t yet noticed you so you slowed down and straightened your spine. The walk had sobered you enough to put on that mask of calm you couldn’t conjure at the bar.

As you got closer she still didn't notice you, too absorbed in her phone to look up. You shook your head and smiled. Her generation was so lucky to have cell phones to entertain them while they wait, all you had was-

Your thoughts stuttered to a stop as a tall man appeared from around the corner and sat next to your sister. He was close to her, his head bent towards her, and she looked up at him and smiled. He smiled back and you could feel a wave of protective instinct wash over you like a cold shower. Your pace quickened until you were in a full on sprint.

“Amanda.” You said so loudly and forcefully you practically barked your sister’s name like an order. Both your sister and the man next to her looked up in surprise. You raced up the steps, your once unreliable equilibrium steadied by an alert, on-edge version of soberness.

“Finally!” She exhaled dramatically, like your tardiness was exhausting. She tucked her phone into her back pocket as she rose from the bench.

The man next to her stood as well. He looked impossibly tall next to your little sister, all short and fragile looking. You took a step closer to the man and squared your shoulders. While you still had to tilt your chin to look him in the eye you were not at the same height disadvantage as your sister.

“Hello there-” he began before you cut him off with a solid, clear tone.

“Stay away from her.”

“I beg your pardon?” He asked. His accent startled you for a moment, so unlike all the midwestern accents wriggling in your ears since coming home last month. You blinked twice to regain your focus and your resolve.

“Stay away from my sister. She’s under age. Did you know that, pervert?”

“I’m well aware-” he started, adjusting his glasses, but this time his words were interrupted by Amanda’s profuse apologies, her hand on your arm pulling you back down the stairs and away from the well dressed, bespectacled threat before you. You maintained eye contact, harsh and defiant, until you reached the first step down and were forced to turn or risk falling down the four concrete steps and make a fool of yourself.

“What were you thinking?!” Amanda shrieked as she continued to pull you by the arm. You turned back to catch a glimpse of the man as you turned the corner but he was gone.

“A grown man should not be hanging around a high school preying on teenage girls.” You stumbled slightly but caught your footing. Looking back you found the block of sidewalk slightly raised. It had snagged the tip of your shoe as you took a step. You sent your glare down, ready to take a larger step upon arrival of the next uneven slab.

“He’s the librarian. Hanging around the school is kind of his job. You would have known that if you weren’t drunk.”

You stumbled despite the level ground beneath you at your sister’s words. She slowed down and finally let go of your arm, only to fold hers across her chest and glare at you with a disgusting amount of judgement.

“Is that why you were late? You were drinking in the middle of the day again?” She wasn’t expecting an answer because she already knew what she was saying was true. You knew what would come next as well, it was the same argument as last time and the time before that.

“You’re going to die on me too if you don’t cut it out. You’ll get in an accident or drown in your own vomit or destroy your liver and-”

“I know Amanda,” you sigh heavily and pinch the bridge of your nose, eyes closed so you didn’t have to see her face. “I know.”

“And now you’re ruining my life. Mr Loki is really nice and now he’s going to look at me like everyone else does.” While he voice began loudly and passionately it trailed off into quiet uncertainty. Your ears pricked up and your vision sharpened, a different kind of safeguard mindset than the one you had earlier against this Mr Loki. You had to protect her from herself now, those thought of self doubt that consume and devour from the inside.

“How does everyone look at you?”

“They look at me like my mom just died. Like I’m helpless. They all pity me.” A sob bubbled out like a punctuation at end her statement. You reached for your sister, so young and fragile and in no way undeserving of the looks and the glances she must be catching, and pulled her into a tight hug. You rocked her back and forth so severely her feet had to lift and fall in time to your swings to keep you both from toppling to the ground.

“I’m sorry.” You murmured into her hair, “I’m sorry for a lot of things.”

She said nothing but held on to the back of your shirt like her life depended on it. You pulled her back by her shoulders so she could see your face with its reassuring smile and kind eyes.

“Tomorrow I will come pick you up on time and apologize to Mr Loki.”

“Sober?”

“As sober as a judge.” You promised. She reached her fist between your chests and extended her pinky. You wrapped your own around it and kissed your thumb. She did the same. Your journey home continued after that, side by side you strode leisurely and your mind wandered back to the front steps of Salem High School and its librarian.

“Amanda?” You started. She hummed in response to show she was listening.

“What kind of name is Mr Loki?”

She laughed loudly and it reminded you of your mom’s laugh when she found something surprisingly amusing. Your stomach flipped at the similarity and at the fact that you would never hear them laugh at the same time like that ever again.

“Apparently he was named after some Norse god or something. It’s a weird name right?”

You both giggled and ducked your heads against a gust of wind then walked the rest of the way home in companionable silence.


	3. Chapter 3

You walked Amanda to school at the miserable hour of 6 am. It was less shameful to walk straight to school instead of to the bar to collect your car. Your plan was to simply see her to the entrance and walk the few blocks to your car, then drive home and fall back into bed. Amanda, however, had other plans to add to your morning.

“You're apologizing to Mr. Loki.” she insisted as she dragged you up the steps and through the front door. He hand was so tight around your wrist it was starting to feel cold from lack of blood flow. 

“I don't want to bother him.” you grumbled as she dragged you down familiar halls and around known corners toward the library. 

The good thing about being dragged around by a 14 year old on their second day of high school is that they are easily swayed away from their mission by new friends. You felt Amanda's grip loosen as a tall, authentic girl saddled up next to her with a cheerful greeting. The girl ignored you save for the occasional sidelong glance. You pulled your wrist back to yourself and began to step back from the girls, each step careful and quiet. It took only two steps before your foot landed on fragile shoe-encased toes rather than linoleum flooring. 

“Oops sorry-” you began as you turn around, only to falter as you take in the person you injured. Your eyes started on his shoes, leather and slightly scuffed by your sneaker. Moving up fitted black slacks, a fitted sweater, and a face of displeasure behind black-rimmed spectacles you found yourself yet again staring into the face of Mr. Loki.

“You again.” He said in a flat tone. 

You squared your shoulders and crossed your arms, suddenly alert and disgruntled by his tone, or lack thereof. 

“Yeah, me again.”

“She was just coming to apologize, sir, for yesterday. Isn't that right?” Amanda suddenly appeared next to you to diffuse the tension, her friend just behind her, eyeing the scene with interest. Amanda's elbow dug sharply into your ribs, knocking the wind out of you. You squirmed away from her pointy joint and frowned at her. She not only blossomed an ache in your side but demolished your offensive front.

“Is that so?” He said, more interest in his voice than before. He quirked an eyebrow, just barely visible behind his glasses, but the flash in his eyes revealed his curiosity.

A silent argument waged between you and Amanda through unblinking eye contact and tight lips. Amanda’s fists tightened into balls by her side and he shoulders rose toward her ears. You could tell she was about to burst. Last time you had seen her reach this point was almost five years ago. When she spilled over back then, at nine years old, she cried and ran to your mother. You were twenty and simply hopped into your car and drove to a friends house to complain about your annoying little sister. 

You honestly didn't know how she would react now. Did she still cry? If she did who would she run to? Mom wasn't here to wipe her years any more. You didn't want to find out what she would do or who she would turn to if her patience wore thin.

“Yes.” You conceded, returning your attention back to Mr. Loki and tacking on a false smile. 

“Go on then.” He smirked and gestured for you to continue.

“I just did.”

“I didn't hear an apology.” He countered and you realized her was right, you didn't expressly say sorry. You glanced back to Amanda before letting out a breath low and long, readying yourself. 

“I'm sorry for calling you a pedophile.”

Amanda's friend gasped and all eyes went to her. She reddened and covered her mouth with both hands, her eyes wide and exaggerated. 

“You called me a pervert, not a pedophile.” Mr. Loki corrected, his voice tinged with ire as his eyes remained trained on yours. 

You actually felt bad for mistaking your insult, hoping the words did not go beyond this conversation to the ears of more students. It was bad enough Amanda's friend overheard and could wildly misinterpret the origin of this apology. 

“Yes. I'm sorry for calling you a pervert. I was-”

“Drunk.” He finished for you, the k at the end of the word accentuated by his British accent. 

A small squeak escaped Amanda's friend's mouth, even behind the tight seal of her hands. Amanda pulled her away by her elbows quickly, her head tucked down in obvious shame. You watched her go and felt your heart sink, would you ever not embarrass her?

When you turned back to face the librarian he seemed less upset by your presence, but it was only a second of open emotion you managed to spot before he shut down into a professional indifference. You attempted to do the same, but the early hour left you feeling tired and weak. 

“Do you accept my apology?” You asked, bringing your hand up to rub your eyelid and drag it down your face, dragging down your lower lid and cheek. You watched him pull his bottom lip into his mouth and contemplate his words before letting them pass between you. 

“I think we can come to an agreement.” He finally said with a solidifying nod. 

“Agreement?” 

The bell rang, loud and shrill, startling you and reminding you of your surroundings. How did you so easily lose sight of the young students milling about, rushing off to class?

“I expect to see you here promptly at school end to pick up your sister.” He wagged a finger at you, as if he were lecturing a student. Your lips tugged down into a frown at the rebuke despite the sudden increase of your heart rate. You knew that rhythm all too well, you were attracted to the demand in a way that conflicted violently with the dislike you held for the person giving it. You could only nod. 

Mr. Loki brushed past you, his arm barely glancing yours as he moved toward the library. You practically sprinted out of the school and down the front steps, slowing down as the building disappeared and the fresh air cycled through your lungs. You suddenly felt more awake despite the early hour, and Mr. Loki was to blame. You set an alarm on your phone for fifteen to four. You would pick up Amanda on time today.


	4. Chapter 4

“Another cup?”   
You looked up from your laptop for the first time in hours, blinking at the shift from the brightness of your screen to the natural light shining through the large coffee shop windows.   
“Uh, yeah.” you said as your brain caught up with the conversation. You held the empty mug out to the barista with a small smile.   
You had occupied a booth in the corner of Anne's Coffee since noon. The house was depressing, empty, and hollow without the presence of your mother. You had only gone back after dropping Amanda off to catch up on sleep which was just about the only way you could stand to be there if Amanda wasn't. The barista took your cup with a polite smile. Your eyes returned to your laptop.  
Jobs weren't necessarily hard to find in Salem, but a job that could support your sister and a mortgage while fulfilling your interests and passions were damn near impossible. Sales rep, cashier, hostess, admin assistant, the list went on and on. You were lost in the description of a receptionist for a marketing firm when a hot cup of coffee was placed next to your mouse.   
“Job hunting?”  
You sighed heavily and slouched into the booth eyeing the twenty tabs currently holding open positions.  
“Yeah. Why is it so impossible to find a good job?”  
“It's all about who you know in this town. The only reason I work here is because my aunt owns the place.”   
You rubbed a finger over your bottom lip, you had been struggling with that thought all day. The fact was Salem was a small enough town for one to know almost everyone, but of all the people you knew not one of them would hire you on any grounds but pity.   
“I'll figure something out.” you finally said, your resolve weak even in your own ears. You looked up only to see the barista had walked back behind the counter to help a new customer.   
-  
Your fingers drummed the steering wheel restlessly. The pickup line extended past the designated area within the gates of the school. You glanced at the digital clock built into the dash of your car, you had been waiting for over half and hour.   
Walk outside the gate I'm waiting  
I can't   
Why?  
Mr. L says so  
Your car inched its way just inside the fenced in area of the school before you had to stop again. This line was worse than LA traffic.  
You groan out a noise, loud and guttural, laying into the horn so it was as loud and guttural as you were. The sounds made a harmonious sour song.  
A sharp rap on your window startled you into silence. You turned to see a familiar, frowning face.   
“Mr Loki.” you didn't bother to hide the displeasure in your voice. His tone was just as agitated.  
“Is there a reason you are polluting the air with such an awful noise?”  
“I'm just here to pick up my sister.”  
“And these parents,” he runs a finger from the unseen start of the line to its finish. “are here to do the same and none of them are throwing tantrums. Keep the noise down and wait your turn.”  
You waited until his back was turned before mocking him childishly. The line trudged along at a grueling pace. Another fifteen minutes and your car pulled alongside a curb filled with students and faculty. You could see Amanda, back turned to you, chatting with her friends. You honked, short and light, to get her attention, rolling down the passenger window and shouting your sister's name.   
“Amanda!” your voice was drowned out by a deeper, more authoritative one. You glanced Mr Loki a few feet ahead closing the door of a blue hatchback behind a student. Amanda turned, catching sight of you and hurrying over. Mr Loki walked the few paces to your car and opened the passenger door just in time for Amanda to climb in.   
“Thank you.” she said to him. Mr Loki smiled and nodded before gently closing the door. You rolled your eyes and let your foot off the break when he turned around and gripped his fingers along the line of the open window. Your car halted and only belatedly did you apply your foot back to the brake.  
“Might I suggest,” he began and you realized why he worked for the school. There was something in his voice that made you want to listen and know. “you park a few blocks away and walk to pick up your sister? Since patience is not your virtue.”  
Your jaw went slack at how quickly he managed to help you and insult you in so few words. You brought your teeth back together and tensed the muscles in your jaw, shaking your head and willing yourself to take the high ground.  
“Thanks for the tip.” you didn't sound at all thankful.  
Mr Loki’s sociable grin turned impish as he looked directly into your eyes. You shuddered at the dangerous flash of malice in the pool of blue. The spell was broken by a flirty wink that shot fire into the spots where before he had made you feel cold. With a final tap of his palm he released your window and moved down the line to the next car. You let out a long breath and moved your foot off the brake pedal. The car rolled out of the pickup loop, but you kept your eyes on Mr Loki through the rearview mirror.   
“I'm surprised you picked me up on time.” Amanda commented, her voice dripping with false surprise. You sped up as you left the school zone.  
“I was late once Amanda and I won't be late again.”  
“Only because Mr Loki told you not to.” her phone was inches from her face, a buffer of nonchalance in the argument.   
“I would have done it whether he told me to or not.”  
“But he had to tell you to.”  
“Look, I'm trying okay.” the words came out harsher than you meant for them to and the car fell silent save for the artificial noise of typing as your sister's thumbs flew across her phone.   
“How was school?”   
No response.   
You had a sudden bout of deja vu, except the perspective had shifted from your sixteen year old self to that of your mother. You could remember vividly the days she would pick you up from school and take an interest in your life, only for you to shut her out and ignore her. If you could go back now you would tell her every little thing, you would do anything to spend another car ride home from school with her. Your eyes blurred and the road became hard to see but you didn't want to wipe your eyes and expose your sister to the sorrow that had floated to the surface from its shallow home in your heart. One thing you had been told by many people at your mother's funeral was that you had to stay strong for Amanda, so you would wait to break down with the half empty bottle of whiskey you had hidden in your suitcase. You could practically taste the burn of alcohol as you drove the car into the garage.  
“Can I go to Justina's house tonight? We have homework.” Amanda asked as you got out of the car. You turned to her with an eyebrow raised, the house key poised before the lock, but she was not paying attention to anything other than her phone.   
“Who is Justina?”  
“She's only been my best friend since middle school!”  
You were gone for all of Amanda’s junior high years so the name Justina rang no bells in your memory. You turned the key in the lock and asked yourself a question you had been asking a lot lately. What would mom do?  
“Do I need to drive you?”  
“She lives three houses down.”  
You stared at Amanda's face, open and hopeful. She bounced on the balls of her feet as she let out an exaggerated “Pleeeeease.”  
“Be back by nine. Eight if they don't feed you.”  
Amanda pushed past you into the house and ran upstairs, she was back down in a matter of minutes carrying only a math textbook and calculator.  
“See ya at nine.” she called before slamming the front door shut.   
The house was quiet and suffocating and in the vacuum of silence you knew the bottle in your room would not be enough. You waited five minutes, enough time to ensure Amanda would not see you as she walked to her friend’s house, before getting back in the car and driving to O'Haimes for a liquid dinner alone.


	5. Chapter 5

O'Haimes was surprisingly full for a Tuesday night and understanding hit when you read the chalk board behind the bar.   
$2 shots  
$2 drafts   
You found an open stool near the door and ordered two shots of whiskey once the bartender came around. The cheap brand burned your throat and you couldn't stop yourself from coughing. You downed the other one once your lungs felt clear.   
It was easier to relax now that you were buzzed. The hum of conversation lulled you into a content state and you let thoughts of a job, Amanda, and your mother leak out of your head until all that remained was a pleasant numbness. You raised your hand and ordered another shot along with a beer. You had a twenty in your purse and it would go a long way tonight.   
“Dare I ask where your sister is right now.”   
The sound of his voice next to you would have made you jump if your reaction time had not been dulled. Instead you turned slowly, the ghost of a smile on your face as you downed the third shot without breaking eye contact.  
“At a friend's.”  
He didn't bother to hide his frown. You could feel your pleasant mood slip away at his disapproving glare. Why was he always around, judging you?  
“Why do you care so much about my sister? I'm taking back my apology, I think you really are a pervert.”   
A glass of amber liquid was placed on the bar before him, top shelf you would guess from the pristine ice cube floating in the clean, stout glass. He held the glass but didn't drink.   
“I think you're jealous.” he said finally and after taking a sip of his drink, “and drunk, again.”  
You made a show of drinking long and deep from your draft, immediately wishing you hadn't when the words became hard to form on your tongue.  
“Jealous? Of what? Your attention?”  
“My attention, yes. As well as the attention of everyone else. They all want to take care of her because she is a child. And I think you're jealous no one is treating you the same way.”  
Somehow he had seen right through you and found the one thing you had been so desperate for but too proud to admit, someone to take care of you. There was a sober sickness bubbling in your stomach making your skin flush with fever.  
“I would prefer to finish my drink alone Mr Loki.” your words were careful and purposeful, fighting against your intoxication and the tears that threatened to spill out of your heavy eyes.  
“Just Loki.”   
“Okay well, take the hint Loki.”   
Loki smirked before raising his glass in an unreciprocated cheers before turning to the bar. You sat side by side in silence, sipping slowly on your respective drinks. You were tempted to order another shot, another draft, but knowing he was still there next to you, judging you, kept you from flagging down the bartender.   
“My mom died too. People seem to forget that.” you found yourself saying as your finger circled the rim of your almost empty glass. Loki didn't respond but something told you he was listening, and even if he wasn't your tongue was loose enough to finally let it out.  
“And I'm not a mom. People forget that part too.”  
Again, nothing from your drinking partner. You watched him tilt his glass this way and that before taking another sip.  
“Aren't you going to say anything?” you pushed, frustration urging you to order just one more drink.  
“I thought you wanted to drink alone.” he was quick with his retort and the witty jab was enough to send you hand in the air and order another shot. The bartender barely put it down before you picked it up and shot it back.   
“You're a dick, Loki. Stay away from me and my sister.” you slapped the twenty dollar bill down on the bar, not caring if it was too little or too much, you just wanted to be as far away from him as possible.   
The air was sticky outside and riddled with the scent of stale booze and cigarettes. Still, you inhaled deeply before walking through the parking lot.  
“You're not driving.” His voice called from behind you. You kept walking, quickening your pace. You bypassed your car and turned right at the sidewalk. The steps just out of time with yours alerted you he was still there. You turned around so suddenly you would have lost your balance if it weren't for the arms waiting to catch you.   
“Can't you just go away?” you shouted, pulling yourself from his grasp.   
“For someone who wants looking after you seem to take issue with someone who is trying to do just that.”  
“I didn't ask you to look after me.” you made sure to emphasize ‘you’. A couple of loitering smokers turned their attention in your direction. You began your trek back home, fuming every time your foot hit the pavement until an ankle could not support your dangerous swaying. A stinging pain blossomed where your palms smacked against the concrete. You didn't bother trying to get up, finally accepting defeat.  
“I can't do this.” you sobbed into your bloody, dirty palms, the salt in your tears irritating the wounds further. You felt arms wrap around you, heavy and long, and you let yourself collapse further putting your full weight into Loki's chest.  
“I can't do this.” you cried again, now muffled by a face full of fabric. Hands lay still on your back and you wished his fingers would run up and down your spine, the way your mother’s used to when you couldn't sleep.  
“I'm afraid you have no choice.” he muttered near your temple. The hard reality only made you sob harder.  
Memories of the remainder of your evening could not come to you when you awoke in bed the next morning, your head feeling like a cracked coconut and your tongue thick and dry.   
“Get up.” a stiff prod of Amanda's finger to your collarbone brought awareness to your surroundings. You didn't wake up of your own volition.  
“And take a shower. You stink of booze.”  
-  
The two of you walked to the school side by side in silence. Once Amanda had opened the door to reveal an empty garage she refused to speak, not even to complain or yell. You knew she knew what had happened last night, maybe not the full story, but she knew you ended up at O'Haimes. You couldn't find the words to say, nothing seemed like it would be enough to make things better and your mind was having trouble forming coherent thoughts. How could you explain last night to a fourteen year old? How could you put the burden of your loneliness on her without making her feel like the problem?  
“Justina's mom is taking me home today.” Amanda said as you crossed the threshold of school property.   
“Oh, okay. I guess I'll see you tonight then.”  
You stopped, she didn't. Without turning to acknowledge you or say goodbye Amanda kept walking to the main building, gathering a small group of friends who took your place at her side. You waited for you sister to disappear into the crowd of students before turning away, heading to O'Haimes to collect your car for the second time this week.


End file.
